


The Black Door

by Oglala



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Cats blowing raspberries, Dark Brotherhood - Freeform, Gen, She's not much of a thinker, You ask a silly question you get a silly answer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 22:41:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8227210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oglala/pseuds/Oglala
Summary: If you've played Skyrim, you'll know of the Dark Brotherhood's sanctuary near Dawnstar, at the coast of the Sea of Ghosts; to enter you have to answer the Black Door's question. Oglala, who opted to destroy the assassins rather than join them, does not know the correct answer.





	

"What... is life's greatest illusion?" 

The toneless whispered words hung in the air even as Oglala removed her palm from the black door. The khajiit stood motionless for a few moments, then began stroking her chin. She had removed her mask for the day, a rare display; usually she was not seen without it, but the day had been too nice, sunny and surprisingly warm, and the ragtag bandits littering the coast knew better than to bother the Dragonborn. A light, pleasant breeze tugged at her dreadlocked hair now, and her brow furrowed as she pondered the question; she had never been much of a thinker. 

After a few minutes of silent deliberation, she placed her hand on the door again. The tarnished metal was cold to the touch, and strangely oily; it drew her in, threatened to pull her toward a terrible unknown, as if a black writhing mass of eels were dragging her down a lightless well. She dispelled the thought with a shake of her head, then steeled herself and firmly announced, "the one where you saw a lady in half!" 

There was an almost palpable pause. The waves of the cold seas sloshed back and forth, soothing and rhythmic; seagulls circled lazily overhead or bobbed on the waters. The spiky grass growing in the coarse black sand waved in the breeze as the Dragonborn stood confidently and waited. 

Finally, the door spoke again, disapproval resonating in its ghostly disembodied voice. "You are _SO_ not worthy." Oglala grinned in spite of herself and cast a quick glance at Lydia, who was trying very hard to suppress a giggle; then the khajiit stuck out her tongue and blew a raspberry. A fine mist of cat saliva descended on the unmoving, unmoved metal like dew on mountain flowers on a cool spring morning, and as the Dragonborn remounted her horse and rode off towards Dawnstar with her companion, only the echos of their shared laughter remained behind. 


End file.
